Memory Loss
by riverknowshisname
Summary: "Peeta," he says with a menacing smile. "Glad to see you're up." He walks over to a chair I hadn't even noticed was here. I don't say anything, mostly because I don't know what to say. "We need to have a little chat, Peeta."


_**Say hello to my new, completely canon, non-au Everlark fic, is starts with Peeta in the Capitol, told from his point of view. Not sure how long it's going to be yet, but here at least, is the first chapter. Please review so I know whether or not I should continue this story or not, because I'm really uncertain about it at this point.**_

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How did I get here? I don't know. The last thing I remember is killing Brutus in the arena. I don't know where I am now, or how I got out of the arena, but I have a sinking feeling that Katniss is not here. Not anywhere. I must be in the Capitol, I think I would know if I was in one of the Districts, plus whenever I do hear voices they're far too embellished to be anyone from the Districts, lest of all Twelve. No, I'm somewhere else, and Katniss Everdeen, the woman I love…who I would willingly lay down my life for, a hundred times over, is nowhere close. Katniss and I have been through so much together, that I'd know if she was by me, but I know she's not. I know that's too much to hope for, but silly me, I hope for it anyways.

The room I'm in is completely white, there's not a window, not a door – that's visible, I suppose they must have one somewhere – and one single table. Besides the bed I'm in the room is completely baron. A person could go mad in a room as closed and uninteresting as this. Perhaps that's what they want. Me. Mad. I suppose it would make sense, out of Katniss and I, I was the one who always had things under control, I always knew what to say.

Memories are swimming through my head, but the two things that seem to be on perpetual repeat is when Katniss and I were on the beach in the Quell, when I poured my heart out to her, knowing that what I said was true. I'd never be happy again, hell, I'm not happy now and there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about that. But, when I said no one needed me…well, I meant it. My family certainly doesn't need me, and Katniss is so independent that she'd never need me – or so I thought.

"I do," she'd said. "I need you." I don't think I had a single thought come to mind. Not a single thing. Katniss just said she needed me. I tried to deter her from that, to convince her that she would be alright without me, when she repeatedly stopped my talking with kissing. Kissing. Something Katniss never truly initiated. I don't know what happened…perhaps me dying had something to do with it…but she meant it. Well, I think she meant it. Katniss has said things sort of like this, but never in the same intensity, or with the same fierceness that she did then. I guess she does love me after all. That might just be as close to "I love you" as I'll ever get, but I'll take it.

The other thought that seems to plague me, awake or asleep, is when we separated in the arena. When she left with Johanna and the coil. She'd said "I'll see you at midnight," I guess that didn't work out. She's not dead though, I'm certain I would know if she was. No. I know in my heart and soul that she is still alive, and I hope fighting. When I've been conscious – almost a foreign sensation – I have heard the doctors talking about whatever "havoc" she was causing. Sounds more like Gale than Katniss. I suppose she could cause havoc is she wanted to, but Katniss doesn't – hasn't – killed anyone without provocation. She's lethal, but she hates killing. The Games really messed with her innocence…I guess it missed with all of the victors' on some level. All I want now is to have Katniss back. To be with her. I'd never dared try to compete with Gale for her, but I guess I always assumed she'd choose him…and maybe she has in light of what's happened…but I also feel like I would know if that happened, that I would feel it in my heart that she had moved on. How long exactly have I been here?

Just as the thought enters my mind, a door in the corner opens up to reveal one of the doctors I've seen before and behind him, President Snow. I've never felt more threatened, or in danger in my life. If Snow has me, one can only imagine what exactly it is he has planned for me.

"Peeta," he says with a menacing smile. "Glad to see you're up." He walks over to a chair I hadn't even noticed was here. I don't say anything, mostly because I don't know what to say. "We need to have a little chat, Peeta."

"What could I have to talk about with you?" I ask rather harshly, but whatever reason he's here for, it's not good, so why even start with the pleasantries when he's just going to get down to it anyways.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," says Snow. "Is that really how you greet your hosts?"

"It's how I greet you," I say. "What do you want?"

"We need to have a talk, Peeta."

"Yes, you've said as much. Get on with it."

"Alright," he says relaxing into the chair. "I'd just wanted to have a lighthearted—"

"_What_ do you want?" I ask more harshly.

"You, Peeta."

"Well, I don't seem to be going anywhere."

"No, I suppose that's true." He lets out a laugh before continuing, "I have a problem Peeta. I have a very big problem."

"I'm sure you do," I say unconcerned by the look of utter loathing on his face.

"That problem Peeta, has been going on since the first Games you were in. That problem, is Katniss Everdeen."

"So?"

"So, I have devised a way to get back at her for everything she has done. A way to get right to the heart of her, the very core of her being. A way to make her regret any inclination of rebellion she's ever given me, a way to convince her, that I'm not near as forgiving as she seems to think I am. Nor will I in anyway, agree to anything, in terms of getting you back. You're not leaving here Peeta. Not until I say it's okay for you to go."

"Let me guess," I say. "That's never going to happen?"

"Oh, Peeta," he says as a smile that darkens his eyes and hardens his expression crosses his face. "I'll let you go."

"But…?"

"But you won't be the same. You won't remember the good Katniss, the somewhat kind Katniss, the Katniss that made obvious her true feelings for you on live television."

"Get to the point, Snow."

"Oh, Peeta, why in such a hurry?"

"I don't have any patience right now," I say dismissively, "least of all for you."

"Good to know," he says nodding, "because you are trying mine a well."

"Glad to know we agree on something."

"Peeta," he says, this time there is no trace of kindness in his voice. "_You_ won't remember her." He tell me. "You won't know what is real about those memories or what isn't real. We're going to make you forget her Peeta."

"You can't do that."

"I'd say don't try me boy, but you don't really have any say in the matter." He is becoming less and less forgiving and more and more threatening as the conversation wans on. "When you've forgotten everything good that you had in your relationship with her, when you hate her more than you love her, when you want her dead more than you want her alive…if they make an attempt to get you out of here, I won't deny them. They can have you, a shell of the man you used to be. A boy who would sooner kill the woman he loved than marry her."

"You can't do that," I say quietly.

"Yes," he laughs. "Well, there would be how you are wrong Mr. Mellark. I can, and I will. You are going to hate Katniss Everdeen, and you are going to want her dead, and you are going to kill her. Who better to end this stupid Mockingjay mumbo jumbo, than the man that her heart truly belongs to. The man she's been desperately trying to convince herself she didn't have any feelings for. Oh Peeta," he sighs. "You're going to hate her so much, that I won't have to even lift a finger to try and kill her, because they'll take you back, and you'll kill her for me."

"That's _impossible._ How could you make me forget about Katniss? How could you make me hate her?"

"Two words, my boy. Tracker. Jackers."

"Tracker jackers?"

"Yes, their venom." He says flatly. "You've experienced that before. Is there anything you can remember from that experience?"

"Not concretely, no."

"_Exactly._" He laughs. "You don't remember it, because they took it from you, they contorted your memories. And that's what we're going to do to you." He nods at the doctor and she steps forward with a syringe and injects something into the IV I've only just noticed is sticking into my arm, and the fact that I'm actually strapped to this bed. There is no escaping. "Now, if you wouldn't mind directing your attention to the screen…" he gestures up to the wall.

"'You don't have any competition anywhere,'" says Katniss from the screen. I know this, I remember it, but then another image flashes in front of my eyes, Katniss is kissing Gale. This must be a fake video, one they engineered to – "BITCH!" I yell at the screen. What is happening to me?

A series of images and moments come to play in front of me, and I see them change from moments of love and affection from Katniss, they suddenly become devastating and unnecessarily inaccurate…or are they? Are some of them true? Are all of them? Have I been wrong all this time? Did Katniss in fact, lie to me when she said she needed me. She doesn't need me, she can do just fine on her own. Katniss doesn't _need_ anyone, least of all me. She'll be fine without me.

The next image is Katniss drugging me, she was trying to kill me, and it didn't work. How did I not notice all of this before? How could I be so naïve as to think she loved me? As to think she would choose me over Gale…but she did. The storms are dissipating. Katniss does need me, she said so herself in the arena. Katniss Everdeen needs me, and I need her.

"It's not going to work," I tell Snow.

"It's already worked Peeta," he says.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"We've been doing this for two weeks," he laughs. "Sometimes you love her when you wake up, and sometimes you hate her, but as the days go by, there's more and more hate and less and less love."

"It's not possible…"

"It is Peeta, and it's working perfectly." His smile seems to get more awful, "and it's going to keep getting better, and you're going to keep forgetting her, and you're going to start hating her more and more, because that's what I want. Oh, and you have an interview with Caesar Flickerman tomorrow. You can say anything you want about Katniss, defend her, accuse her, profess your undying – for not – love for her, anything you want…" he pauses, "as long as you put forth the idea of a cease fire."

"No." I say.

"Yes," says Snow firmly. "Most certainly yes."


End file.
